Journeys forth
by minoki
Summary: Vincent Valentine transported by materia into unknown world. He meets new people and stumbles upon another world changing adventure, but how does his presences change the world around him.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Do not own characters, they belong to respectively J.R. and Square Enix, i only own the situation they've been put in.**

Hiking through the tough terrains of the cavern near the Golden Saucer, it was times like these Vincent Valentine wished he had taken up Cid's offer for a ride in his airship. Or at least breed his own mountain climbing, river crossing chocobo. Unfortunately luck was not with him, and through the caves he wandered.

Until he spotted something, a glowing light from another chamber, just down left from where he is. He thought of the option whether to go or not, curiosity got the best of him and down he went. Slowly he made his way, keeping careful note of where he had stood beforehand. As he came closer to the mouth of the chamber, he now could tell it was the sickly glow of the life stream that called to him.

He knew if he were to enter there might be a chance of mako poisoning; but it was unlikely for hosting a demon, one such as Chaos had its upsides; that being taking a lot of their traits into oneself, and he was almost certain, the mako would do no damage to him. So in he went, looking for anything suspicious, he didn't know what it was but something was calling to him.

That was when the bright glow of what only materia could produce caught his eyes. He moved closer, face slightly surprised when he saw the mixed colour globe of purple and blue. He stared at it for a while in contemplation, wondering if he should take the materia or leave it.

'It's unusual, but it could be helpful. Well you can never have too much materia.' Vincent thought.

He reached out to grab it, when suddenly white light appeared, it scorched his clothes and some bags nearly into smithereens, before he felt a pull and was dragged into what only could be described as a warp hole.

Eomer a fair haired man was leading his Eored and company to Edoras when he caught a figure of a man lying near the river Entwash.

"Do you see what i see Boromir?" Eomer asked one of the men beside him, the only one with dark hair.

Turning about Boromir's grey eye's caught the figure. "An injured man, he was probably attacked by Orcs!" Boromir exclaimed as eored made their way to where the figure lay.

Both Eomer and Boromir climbed down from their horses to check upon the man, to find no major injuries upon his person. Slightly drenched and scorched, the man was; as he laid belly down unconscious, with nothing on but tatters of burnt clothes. The only thing still in piece was a deep red cloth around his head, one bag of glowing baubles and a golden steeled gauntlet that glowed.

"He seems to have been burned, but i find no marks upon his skin" Eomer voiced, as he inspected the figure.

"His colouring is that of Gondorian Blood, but he's so fair skinned that he could be a mix. Certainly not a peasant this man." Boromir said as he checked the man over as well, flipping the figure over so his face could be shown. "No freckles or calluses of that of a working man, or at least a swordsman, if anything he may be a hunter for these are the harden hands of an archer."

"We shall take him with us; he'll freeze to death soon, the day grows short, he will be able to answer our questions once he wakes." Eomer said, as he helped carry the man onto the horse of another Rohirrim rider. "Watch him Eothian, call if he wakes. We ride till light is but a sliver in the sky, then we shall make camp."

Vincent stirred; he could feel the softness of plush fur blanket wrapped around him, and the warmth of fire licking his skin. His eyes had yet to obey him and open; and his body he could not move, though slowly his hearing returned and he could make out voices, speaking in what seemed to be a harsher dialect of his own.

"It seems to me a weapon of sorts. Like a claw?" The rich baritone voice said, as he felt his right arm being slightly lifted for inspection.

"How strange a weapon it is, not made of any metal I know of." An alto voice said, as once again his arm where lifted and turned.

"I highly doubt that he could be a villager, look at him! His skin is not marred by any hard day's work." The first voice said. "And the weapon is plated with gold!"

"Ai, he looks of nobility to me, but then he should be known to us. Tis no kingdom of men west of middle earth that we do not know." The second responded.

"Tis could be a traveller from Haradim or an Easterling." The first said, as he felt the hands of the man turn his face closer to the warmth of the fire.

"Nay he looks like none of those." The second responded once again. "If anything he might be a noble's bastard son."

"Indeed." The first replied.

"What do you make of these baubles?" The second person asked.

"It is strange, i have not seen any rock, gem or glass that glows as so." The first person responded.

"Maybe he is a wizard and they are magical items?"

"Maybe he stole them?" The second person said.

"Or maybe he found them, we will not know till he wakes...we should not start jumping into conclusions." The first person said.

"Forgive me, these are dark times, it is easy to judge someone harshly when they are foreign." The second person replied apologetically. "You may never know, i am just pointing out the possibilities."

Vincent hearing enough, and mighty thirsty decided to try and open his eyes again, and only succeeded briefly before he felt his eye's fall shut. His hand twitched as he felt his surroundings. Slowly regaining the command of his body, his throat burned from the smoke he had inhaled when the light had first scorched him. Slowly he worked his lips, trying to voice his need for refreshment.

"W-wa-watt'er" He stuttered out, twisting himself back and forth as he tried to escape the cacoon of blankets.

"He wakes, Eothain bring over some water!" The second voice called.

Vincent finally was able to open his eyes' and he could see that he was in some sort of camp near a forest. He turned to the side to look into another man's face; he looked about late thirties or so, and had neat stubble growing upon his chin, a nice chiselled face, square face. The man was looking back at him, surprise bright on his face, light grey eyes wide as he looked into Vincent's own eyes.

"By Elendil sword! Eomer! Look at his eyes'!" The first voiced shouted, shock colouring his voice. "They are red as a man's blood!"

He heard the shuffling of feet as another man came closer to him; the man he suppose was the one called Eomer, looked into his eyes' as well. Eomer's own were that of a sky blue, close to Clouds' own but nothing as vivid. He looked younger than the first man but they both had that strong chiselled face. Though where the first had shoulder length black hair, Eomer had blonde hair, which slightly passed his shoulders.

"Valar!" Eomer gasped, still looking upon Vincent's face. "I know not whether tis possible to have such eyes. Mayhap he is mixed blood Boromir, that of elves and man?"

"I know not!" The first man who he now assumed was Boromir said. "I have never seen elves, only know that they are fair, tall and their ears are long and pointed."

"My lords, the water you wanted?" Another man said as he drew closer to them, holding a bowl of water.

"Thank you Eothain" Eomer said. He took the bowl from him as Boromir slowly lifted Vincents' head to help better drink the water. "That will be all."

Eothain left them, as he went to join the other men at the farther side of the camp fire. Though, Vincent noticed that they all looked his way, interest evident in their face.

"Do you have a name stranger?" Boromir asked after he had finished drinking.

"Vin...Vincent." He responded while he slowly took in more of his surroundings. The area was unfamiliar to him; he thought that he may be out at the other side of the mountain, Northern Corel. For surely he was nowhere near the Golden Saucer, he could see no hint of desert near them or the breeze of any sea.

"Where do you hail from Vincent?" The blonde Eomer asked him as he was slowly set down unto now what he knew where cloaks.

"It's common courtesy to introduce oneself before asking that of another." Vincent retorted as he felt himself awaken more.

"Forgive me, but at times like these there is no room for common courtesy." Eomer said, a sharp look entering his eyes. "You are in the land of Rohan and as such are open to questioning from any solider of the mark."

"Rohan?" Vincent said, confusion tainting his voice as he gradually leaned himself up. "I've never heard of such a place. I come from Midgar."

"Midgar?" Boromi and Eomer said glancing at each other briefly before gazing back at him.

"Where in Middle Earth is that?" Boromir asked scrutinizing him. "Is it east or south of Gondor?"

"I've never heard of Middle Earth or Gondor either." Vincent said to them cautiously, his mind now slowly drawing possibilities and conclusions on what had happened to him earlier and how he ended up here.

"He's never heard of Gondor or Middle Earth!" Boromir hissed sharply to his companion, though not low enough that Vincent couldn't hear. While Eomer stared incredulously at the man sitting before them, before suspicions slowly set in.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Thank you soo much for the reviews! They were very kind and encouraging, this is for you guys :) I'm sorry i didn't get the time to respond.**_

**Btw I'm looking for a Beta reader, if you know anyone please send them my way.**

**Disclaimer: Look back at first chapter.**

Sitting in front of Vincent, both Eomers' and Boromirs' face were drawn in surprise. Eyebrows knitted together, mouth slacked and eyes wide with confusion.

'How could he have never heard of Middle Earth?...Or Gondor?' The men thought. Confusion and surprise gave way to suspicion then, as the mens' features changed to a thin lipped, narrowed eye look.

"Then pray tell me, what have you heard of?" Eomer asked

"As I have said I come from Midgar, that's east of the ocean rift, but since I last remember being in the west plate, there should be a place called Gold Saucer, North Corel or even Costa Del Sol close by.

"You speak in riddles! There are no such places here!" Boromir said annoyance and confusion seeping into his voice.

"If you are one of Mordors' spie-"Eomer started but was quickly cut off.

"I assure you, I am no spy. I do not even who Mordor is." Vincent retorted annoyed at the man, but understanding himself, the need for caution.

"It is not who but rather a where, Mordor is a place of great evil." Boromir responded, looking deeply into Vincent's face trying to discern whether he spoke true.

"Is evil not subjective?" Vincent voiced, startling the two men with his questions.

"If that does not speak for itself that he could possibly be a sp-" Once again Eomer was cut off, but this time by Boromir reply. "It is true evil may be subjective, but not in this context, for the one we fight only wants destruction. He wants to destroy mankind, dwarvenkind, elvenkind and basically all of Middle Earth. There is no justification for that. Now stranger, swear upon your person and to whatever gods you pray to, and tell me you are no spy, no underling to the master of Mordor, and we might just let you free."

Boromir's tone had turned harsh and brutal, his eyes cold as steel as he stared intently at the half-naked man sitting in a cacoon of fur blankets. Eomer in turn had backed up, his hand drawn to the handle of his sword which rested on his left hip. He as well stared at Vincent, measuring him and trying to glean the truth from his eyes.

The men at camped all stared at the scene unfolding before them, changing their positions as well, preparing themselves for the worst. Vincent knew he was walking on ice and everything he said would be scrutinized, but he had no reason to trust these men. For all he knew they could be the ones tricking him, they could be the "evil underlings" and the master of Mordor could be some good person. Experience had taught him not to take everything into face value.

Though he had not been given any reason not to trust these men either, they had helped him and cared for him while he had been unconscious, so maybe he would give them the benefit of the doubt. He could always get information later; it was one of his best skills aside from shooting. Either way he was not working for this master of Mordor. He would tell them and then be off, they did not seem very helpful and he truly did not want to get stuck in another war game.

Without breaking any contact from the grey-eyed man Vincent replied. "I swear to Gaia and on my soul; that I am not in league with this master of Mordor you speak of."

They stared at each other for a couple of moments before Boromir sighed with relief, hearing that Eomer and his men relaxed a bit, but they were still a little guarded. Eomer trusted Boromirs' reading on the man, for he knew no one else; except maybe Faramir and Denethor, who could read a man's heart so well.

"We are sorry Vincent for our rudeness, but as Eomer has mentioned, times are dangerous. We must be careful." Boromir told him as he settled back down to the ground which he was standing upon. While Eomer sat on a log near the pair.

"I understand completely, I would do the same had the situation been reversed." Vincent replied.

Noting that he was completely naked under the covers he asked. "Would you happen to have my clothes? I think it best if I put something on." He shifted a bit uneasy; he was not used to being so vulnerable. He knew that even naked he was, he could tear the men surrounding him into pieces, completely and utterly dominate them. His clothes provided a different type of defense, a personal and emotional one. A barrier to others, it made him into an unknown factor, unreadable and unapproachable. Only Cloud, Cid and maybe even Yuffie had ever gotten past it.

"When we found you, you wore nothing but burnt rags; it had seemed you were caught in fire. The only thing remaining intact was this bag of baubles, a red cloth; which is in the bag, and that gauntlet you are wearing." Boromir told him, handing him his pack that was full of spare materia and his red ribbon.

"You are in luck Vincent! You are in a company of travelling soldiers, and we have spare clothes. There is nothing here truly your size. Most of the men here are either shorter than you or bulkier, even both. We manage to find something you could wear, some hunting clothes." Eomer explained, the tension slightly disappearing as he grab a pack near the log he sat upon and drew out contents. "Unfortunately we have no spare boots; you may be able to wrap your feet with extra cloth we have and use wood to strengthen the underneath of your feet."

"That is very kind of you for providing me with these clothes and materials." Vincent said gingerly. "I also do not believe I thanked you for helping me as well. You have my gratitude. I have not much to give, but if you would like i can offer you a couple of these baubles."

Vincent knew he could part with some of his materia, most of them were doubles, and the mastered ones where still linked to his gauntlet. Either way, he suspected the men would not know how to use them, with them referring the materia as 'baubles' it was obvious they had never seen or heard of material before. If by chance they did have the power to use the materia, they would not have the knowledge to access the power within.

"That is kind of you to offer, but we would rather gain some information…if you are willing?" Eomer asked him, curiosity evident in his eyes.

"I do not see why not, I suspected I would not be let go so easily." Vincent agreed, as he took the items of clothes and materials from Eomers' hands. "But if you would let me dress first, I do not particularly relish the thought of being questioned again without some clothes on."

"Of course." Eomer said, as both he and Boromir stood to leave, giving Vincent more privacy.

Unfolding the items, he began putting the tunic, what seemed to be underwear- more like a loin cloth- and pants on. They were a bit big for his figure, and the pants a little bit short, but he had to make do. He would try to make his shoes later, for if he made them now, there would be more tension and suspicion. It would make them think he was in hurry to leave their company -which he was- and go off doing questionable things. He knew that though he passed the first test, the men were not so quick to trust him. They would be bad soldiers if they did.

Gathering his items, he put everything to one single pack and rested it near his makeshift bed. Sitting back down upon it, he waited for his two 'guards' to return. He had noticed them glancing at him once and awhile to make sure he was not doing anything fishy. While he waited he thought of what he would say to them.

'Maybe I should just play the confused fool with slight amnesia? No that would not due; they already know too much to make that believable. Well telling them I was sucked into a warp hole would not be very believable. I highly doubt they even know what a warp hole is.' He thought to himself, as he scanned his surroundings; mapping out best vantage points when and if they did end up fighting. 'I have not seen people dressed like this before, seems very ancient times to me. This is probably a different dimension, interesting…what an infuriating materia, how will I get back now? This would probably be a good time to put your inputs in Galian Beast, Death Gigas, Hellsmaker, Choas? What do you think?'

Silence answered him, something that was unexpected to Vincent for they always liked having their input in any situation. 'Galian beast?...Death Gigas?...Hellsmaker?...Choas?' He questioned in his mind, nervousness sneaking in. 'Choas? You there?'

When silence greeted him again, a slight shiver made its way down his spine. His eye's wide in surprise, he was stunned as he sat cross legged in his makeshift bed, alone in an unknown world. "Shit…"


End file.
